


Forgive Me Father For I am about to Sin

by GeeGollyWiz13



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Catholic School- AU, Human-AU, M/M, OhGod
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-11-20 17:50:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeeGollyWiz13/pseuds/GeeGollyWiz13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles, thanks to his dad, is forced to attend St. Peter's Academy for boys. There he meets Derek Hale, who makes him contemplate one question. "Do you believe in Heaven?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Welcome to Hell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kawaiicoyote](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kawaiicoyote/gifts).



> Ahhhhhh :) This was something I came up with while waiting for one of my classes one day and me and Heidi just RAN with it :) She is Kawaiicoyote, and you can find her version of this prompt in her works! (It's amazing, and you all should read it.)

                Stiles knew he was screwed from the moment he’d set eyes on the place. His father had insisted, after his mother died, that Stiles get a good education, a strict education. Sure, he’d gone to public school, with Scott, Jackson, and Lydia. Then Allison had moved to Beacon Hills the summer before 9th grade, and Stiles kissed all bro-time with Scott goodbye, his asthmatic friend trailing after her radiant beauty like a lost puppy. And Stiles? Well it was thanks to the Sheriff’s office that his father got a nice big fat raise, and he ended up waving out the window as his father drove him off to Catholic school.

                Stiles knew his dad wasn’t at all religious, finding God more at the end of a good case than he did in a church, but his mom had been. Stiles still kept the rosary she had around her bed post. And Stiles? Well, Stiles was apprehensive. He’d been…struggling, if he could call it that, as of late, with the idea of “Do I like boobs or cock more?” He’d settled that question the summer Allison rolled into town. He’d decided that he was into both. Come on, both boobs and dicks were awesome, who was Stiles to deny himself both? Which was why when his father told him to pack his bags, Stiles worried a bit.

                St. Peter’s Catholic Academy had been known for being strict. Stiles had seen the boys on movie outings a few times, dressed up in their khaki slacks and their button down shirts, sweater vests covering that. Sure, the movies were always “guy” movies, but they were never “sinful”, at least as far as Stiles could tell. But now? Now he was stuck, stuck attending this academy for boys.

                “You must be Stiles.” Sister Katherine smiled, somewhat of a cruel smile, as she opened the door. His father waved from the car, speeding off. Stiles knew he had work to get to, but it still upset him, feeling like he’d been dumped off like a stray.

                “Uh, hi.” Stiles mumbled, shuffling inside the door, carrying his bags.

“Welcome to St. Peter’s Catholic Academy. We are very happy to have you here, sharing the blessings of our lord. We’ve chosen a student to show you around and to your room.” Sister Katherine waved her hand, and a slight boy with curly hair rushed up. He was almost as tall as Stiles, and he had a sad look in his eyes that kind of reminded him of Scott sometimes. Puppy. It was a puppy look.

                “This is Isaac. He will show you how things run around here. Please, we’d like you to treat this as your home, and God Bless you.” Sister Katherine walked off, the black habit swaying behind her.

                “Sup?” Stiles nodded, and Isaac visibly relaxed, out of the sight of Sister Katherine.

“Sup, man.  What’s your name?” Isaac asked, and took one of Stiles’ duffle bags.

                “Stiles, Stiles Stilinski.”

                “What kind of name is Stiles?” Isaac chuckled, and Stiles found himself smiling.

                “It’s a nickname. You see, my first name is way too exotic for most people to pronounce, so, everyone just calls me Stiles. But, it’s totally way better than my real name.” Stiles explained, as they walked down one of the long hallways, leading to a tall staircase to the second floor.

                “You’ll be rooming with Danny. He’s a pretty nice guy, he plays for our Lacrosse team. He’s the goalie. And he’s really smart, so when you study, study with him.” Isaac said, making his way up the stairs. “Boyd is pretty cool too, but he’s super quiet. He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s always funny. He does the best impression of Sister Kate, it’s the best.”

                Stiles smiled, and looked down the hallway. At the end, by one of the doors, stood a tall, dark haired boy. In his hand he held something shiny, and Stiles quickly realized it to be a lighter. The boy flicked the flame, and the fire was a small light in his hand. The sheer vision of it made Stiles both nervous and curious. The boy, by Stiles’ standards, was incredibly attractive. He was that dark, broody type. And they said only girls were into bad boys. Pshhh, as if. The boy turned to look at Stiles, an amused smirk playing at his lips. Stiles’ mouth went dry instantly. A bad boy with a sense of humor? This was not good.

                “And, uh, who’s that? The guy in the hall?” Stiles asked, and Isaac stopped in front of one of the first doors on the left.

                “Who, him? That’s Derek Hale. Don’t mind him. He’s here because his parents thought some Catholic “crack-down discipline” would do him some good. Rumor has it that he set one of the boy’s bathrooms on fire in his old school. And before that? Set the popular girl’s locker on fire at his old old school. Kid always has that lighter on him. Sometimes he tries smoking in his room, but he never gets away with it. His roommate, my buddy Eric always finds a way to let Sister Kate know. She seems to tolerate him the least around here. He’s always got detention, writing lines, or scrubbing the showers on his hands and knees.” Isaac muttered, and set Stiles’ bags down on the bed.

                “Danny’s at practice, he should be up in a little while. I can let you get settled. Say, I’ll save you a seat at dinner when you come down with Danny!” and Isaac was out the door, leaving Stiles alone with his thoughts. Somewhat forbidden thoughts, as Stiles unpacked his new uniforms and some regular clothes he brought with him. Thoughts of a certain boy with a lighter just down the hall. Stiles had just finished backing away his socks when the door opened. Jumping a bit, Stiles was met with a friendly smile.

                “Hey man! I’m Danny.” The boy said, and Stiles stuck out his hand. He was tall, with nice tan skin, and a 100 watt smile.  He seemed nice enough, and his handshake was firm. Stiles didn’t exactly melt into putty, but hell, he could definitely imagine enjoying the view in the showers with this kid.  Stiles smiled, and retracted his hand, leaving the taller boy to lower his lacrosse bag on the floor by the foot of his bed.

                “So, welcome to St. Peter’s! Isaac told me we were getting a new kid before practice. So, daddy think you need some structure, or they think it’s good for your education.” Danny smirked lightly, and sat on his bed, his back against the wall. Stiles blushed, and scrubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

                “It uh, it was my mom’s wishes. She uh…she died a few years ago. My dad’s been saving up. So, now I’m finally here.” Stiles replied, and watched as the smile on Danny’s face faded a little. “But it’s okay! Uh, I’m glad I could be here. Just… I don’t know if I feel like I’ll belong.”

                “And why’s that?” Danny asked, his eyes narrowing a bit.

“I uh…I just…”

                “If it’s because you’re gay, no worries.” Danny said, and chuckled. “Same boat, if that’s what you’re afraid of. I mean, you kind of have to keep it under wraps, but hey. God made us who we are, am I right?” Danny looked at Stiles, and for a moment, Stiles wondered if it was a ploy to make him admit it. “My parents knew it would be rough, me being out with them and all, you know. But this place has a great rate of college attendees, and well, I’m hoping to get into Princeton.”

                Stiles breathed out a sigh of relief. Danny smiled at him again (like he ever stopped).

“God, thanks, dude. I thought I would be all alone here.” Stiles took in a deep breath, and let it out again. “But, uh, are you sure no one will know?”

                “Dude, unless you get caught blowing someone or bending someone over? Yeah, fat chance. None of us really want to be here. Even straight dudes want out, being forced her because of grades or behavior.”

                “Like Derek Hale?” Stiles asked, and snapped his mouth shut. It had just come blurting out, and it made Stiles’ cheeks flush red. Danny shook his head, and gave a small chuckle.

                “Kid, you better watch out for him. He’s not just your normal run of the mill behavior mishap. He’s all types of crazy. A firebug. They say his rap sheet is filled with small fires and Arson. Say he burned down his house you know. Whole family died in a fire. Then he started carrying around lighters, setting stuff on fire.” Danny explained, and frowned. It wasn’t a good look on him. “He’s bad news, kid. I wouldn’t give him a second glance if I were you.”

                A loud bell began to ring, two short bursts of sound, and Danny groaned, and got up off the bed. “Dinner time. You uh, you want to come or skip out tonight? Maybe get to know the place?” Danny asked, and opened the door. Stiles jumped up, shaking his head.

“Like I would miss dinner!” he chuckled, and Danny laughed.

They shut the door behind them as they made their way down to the dining hall.

                Isaac and a boy, who later would be introduced as Eric, were sitting at one of the longer tables in the dining hall. Eric smiled at him, and nodded his head. “Sup, Batman?” he asked, and Stiles immediately perked up.

                “Batman?” Stiles asked, settling down next to Danny, across from Eric.

“Yeah, bro. Danny’s the Flash, Isaac is Spiderman, and well, I’m Iron Man. Screw universes. You can be Batman.” Eric smiled, and Stiles chuckled. Hell, he would take Batman. He was always acting like Scott’s Robin anyway, he was glad for the chance.

                “So, what do you think of the place?” asked Danny,  grabbing some mashed potatoes from a large bowl in front of Isaac. Eric dug into the chicken piled high on a plate beside him. Stiles didn’t know what to touch and eat first, but he was pretty sure this was something he could get used to.

                “I like it so far. You guys seem pretty cool, and well, this food looks great!” Stiles laughed, and forked some green beans onto his plate. “And I guess the place looks alright. My dad expects me to get a great education, and here it looks like they really crack down.” The rest of the boys nodded furiously at this, and Stiles’ smile drops a bit.

                “Sister Kate? She teaches gym. Deacon Harris and Deacon Finstock teach chemistry and economics. And all of them act like you were put on God’s good earth to be completely run down by drills and homework. But you’ll get accustomed to it. Boyd- and hey, where’s Boyd?” Isaac asked, and looked around. Eric frowned.

                “Got caught up with Hale today. And you know how that goes. Boyd’s so quiet, they totally blamed him. Hale just pulls that ‘good boy’ act, and Sister Kate completely lets him off the hook. So he’s in the library shelving books. He said he’d come to your room Danny, after he was done.” Eric replied. Stuffing more chicken into his mouth, Isacc grimaced.

                “Hale is such a dick. Seriously, I just wish they’d catch him one day. Just something good enough to kick his ass out.” Isaac mumbled.  The rest of the boys nodded in agreement as Stiles dug into his mashed potatoes. He was about to say something back, about how Hale didn’t seem that bad, until all the boys went quiet. Stiles watched as their eyes narrowed, and Eric’s grip on his knife tightened.

                “What do you want, Hale?” Isaac asked, and Stiles’ skin grew tingly.

“I just want to greet the new kid.” A rich, silky voice came from behind Stiles, and an arm slung around his shoulder. He could smell something like smoke, and a hint of musky cologne as he felt Derek get closer. The boys looked shocked, and Stiles almost squeaked as a pair of lips dropped close to his ear.

                “Sup, new kid. What’s your name?” Derek hissed, and Stiles felt himself react in a way that only videos from the internet had been able to do. Shifting slightly, Stiles whimpered.

                “S-Stiles. Stiles Stilinksi.”

“Hmmm. Nice to meet you. Tell me, Stiles…” Derek chuckled a bit. “Do you believe in Heaven?”

                “Get lost, Hale.” Danny hissed.

                “Now, now, Danny. Stiles here can answer his own questions. I asked you, kid. Do you believe in Heaven?” Derek asked again, and Stiles knew that this wasn’t going to end well if Hale had to ask a third time.

                “Depends on how you define Heaven.” Stiles breathed out, and Hale, satisfied with the answer, moved away.

                “Smart kid.” Derek smirked, and Stiles, for the first time since he’d arrived at the table, allowed himself to look back at the boy. He was, god, he was even better up close. And his eyes, Stiles thought, could definitely undress anybody immediately.

                “See you dorks, later.” Derek muttered, and walked out of the dining hall. Everyone at the table let out a sigh of relief.  Stiles let out a similar sigh, but not in relief. His pants were tight, and he desperately needed some different kind of relief at the moment.  Excusing himself quickly, Stiles left the dining hall, heading for his room. He didn’t want to get lost, so he tried to remember the way Danny had showed  him on the way down. He passed the classrooms, all empty. He’d found the beginnings of the dorm rooms when he heart it. The rock music blared through the hallway, with a base that Stiles could feel in his chest.

                “You pull the trigger of my….love gun!” A voice sang along with the music. Stiles, despite his overwhelming urge to just run up the stairs, crept closer to the door of the room. The door was open, and through the crack of the door, he saw Derek Hale, lying on his bed, reading a book, singing along to the words coming from the stereo.

                “You going to come in, or just stare?” Derek called, his eyes shifting towards the door, and Stiles went still. He’d been seen. Mission Abort…Abort!! But he couldn’t run. It was like the muscles in his legs wouldn’t budge.

                “What’s your deal, man?” Stiles asked instead, moving to stand in front of the doorway. Derek raised his eyebrows.

                “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Derek replied, and brought his book back up into his line of vision. Stiles huffed, and crossed his arms across his chest.

                “You know what I mean. Why are you such a dick?” Derek laughed at this, and Stiles frowned. He wasn’t supposed to laugh at that. Derek got up off the bed, and walked over to his desk.  He rummaged around  

                “You really want to know?” Derek asked, and Stiles huffed.

“No, asshole. I’m just asking because I am completely uninterested.” Stiles replied, and Derek turned around quickly, eyes furious and his stance defensive.

                “Meet me by the lacrosse field tonight. After lights out.” Derek growled. “Now get the fuck out of my doorway.”

                Stiles never ran up a flight of stairs faster in his life. Slamming his door behind him, he flopped down on his bed. Boner gone, but not entirely forgotten, Stiles climbed under his covers. He should get some sleep. After all, he had somewhere to be later.


	2. Falling from Grace

                The rest of the night went by in a blur. Danny, Isaac, Eric, and finally Boyd arrived in the room. Stiles sat up when they came in, having fallen asleep during the time they were gone. Boyd turned out to be funny, just like Danny had said. He was quiet, but he stayed close to Isaac and Eric, often touching them lightly on the shoulder or the arm. Stiles figured it was a quiet thing, needed reassurance or something. They talked about movies and comics until lights out, which was ten o clock at night.

                After Danny shut off the light, Stiles waited for him to sleep. Once aware that his breath was stable, that he was finally asleep, Stiles slipped on his shoes, and quietly snuck out the door. He hoped that Danny was a heavy sleeper.

                The hallways were much different at night. The things Danny had said to look for between the dining hall and the room were a lot harder to see, and Stiles didn’t have anything to light his path save for a window few and far between. Finally, when he stumbled his way to the main entrance and the dining hall, Stiles tried to remember if there was a sign anywhere that would suggest where the lacrosse fields were. He searched around quietly for a few minutes, but saw nothing. Scowling, Stiles cursed his bad luck. Of course, the baddest kid in the entire school tells you to do something, and Stiles had to be the one to fuck it up.

                “Stilinski.” Came a voice from the darkness, and Stiles clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle the scared scream that erupted from it. Stiles looked around, and in one of the corners of the room, he heard a metallic clink, and then a small flame erupted in the darkness.

                “Derek. I’m sorry! I…” Stiles began, and Derek stepped out from the darkness. He was smirking, but didn’t seem angry. In fact, he seemed…pleased. Like the devil who was just sold a soul for nothing. Stiles swallowed hard, and Derek walked towards him.

                “I figured you’d get lost. First night here and all. Are you sure? You really want to get to know the ‘King of Flames’?” Derek asked, and Stiles felt his heart drop.

                “Is that what they call you?”

“They call me so many things. That would be the kindest.” Derek said, and shoved his hands in his pockets, the lighter now put away. He seemed younger now, in the dark, but still so sure, so confident. “But come on. If you want to know about me, then follow me.”

                Derek began to walk away, and Stiles scrambled after him. Derek didn’t pull out his lighter to navigate the hallways, and Stiles was sure that he would never be able to remember his way out of the maze they appeared to be going through. He could hear Derek chuckle every time that Stiles stumbled, or grunt whenever he stopped to take a look around, and Stiles would run into him. Finally, they reached a doorway, small and unnoticeable in the dark.

                “This leads outside. Then it’s a five minute walk. You okay with that? Or are you afraid yet?” Derek asked, and Stiles huffed, putting up a bravado. Of course he was scared, he was fucking petrified. But Stiles wasn’t much of a quitter, so he wasn’t going to start now.

                “Yeah right. Let’s go.”

Derek opened the door, leading them out onto the grounds of the school. In the dark, it seemed mysterious, scary, yet exciting. There were woods surrounding the fountains and patios. There was a trail leading to the fields through the trees, and Derek headed straight for it. As Stiles walked behind him, he took in Derek’s gait, the way he looked when he walked. He didn’t slouch, but walked with his head held up high. His hands stayed in his pockets. He didn’t speak, or make any noise, and even his boots on the ground were silent. He didn’t turn around him to look at anything.

                “You know, you’re quite the chatter box.” Stiles quipped, smiling to himself.

“Shut up.”

                “I’m serious! Has anyone ever said you talk too much? Cause really? Put a lid on it.” Stiles joked, and jogged a bit ahead, walking a bit faster to walk next to Derek instead of behind him. Although the view from the back wasn’t too bad at all either. Derek didn’t answer, instead, he grunted. Oh, so he spoke caveman, good to know.

                Stiles stayed quiet until they reached the lacrosse fields. It wasn’t much, or anything spectacular, but it was a quiet place, somewhere private. Somewhere they may not be able to hear him scream. Stiles suddenly was rethinking this decision. He watched as Derek climbed up the bleachers, settling on one in the middle before pulling his lighter and a pack of cigarettes out. He pulled one out, and used his lips to hold it.

                Stiles doesn’t know whether it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life, or quite possibly the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life.

Clambering up the bleachers, Stiles took a seat close to Derek. He was still far enough away to be able to relax, Derek would have to get up to get him, but he was close enough to still be able to hear Derek.

                “So, I believe I wanted to know why you’re such a dick.” Stiles started. Derek snorted, and lit the cigarette between his lips.

                “Have you ever witnessed Hell, Stiles?” Derek asked, and blew smoke out of his nose, looking very much like a raging bull. Stiles swallowed, and shook his head.

“I’m not sure what you mean. Do you mean like the actual place? Or experienced something that could be considered hell?”

                Derek nodded. He took another drag of the cigarette, and pulled it out from between his lips, offering it to Stiles. Stiles didn’t move to take it, so Derek took it back.

                “Experienced. Seen something that will never leave you for as long as you live. Been hurt so badly by what you saw that even if you tried to cut it out of your memories, it would regrow ten times stronger. Have you ever seen something like that?”

                Stiles thought for a moment. Up until now, his life had been somewhat normal. Besides his mother’s slow death via cancer, his life had pretty much gone as expected. Okay grades, good friends, a good dad. There was nothing out of the ordinary. Stiles couldn’t think of anything besides the pain of his mother’s passing as particularly hellish.

                “Not really. I mean, my mom died when I was younger. But I don’t know…does that count?” Stiles replied, and Derek nodded again.

                “Yeah. It counts.”

“So…have you witnessed Hell?” Stiles asked. Stiles was beginning to get confused.

“Have I. No. Not witnessed. I have been in hell. I have seen hell, felt hell breathing on my very skin.” Derek took a long drag of the cig, and sighed. “My family. My sister and I were coming back from a friend’s house. We were only maybe ten, eleven.  We’d just been walking up the driveway, it’s long, you see. Like through the trees. The house…god, the house. It was on fire. Just, bursting with flames, licking and swirling. We could hear the screams from inside. Like someone had just set it. My sister, Laura…we called the fire department. They came as fast as they could, but by the time they showed up, everyone was dead. “

“But I thought your parents sent you here! I thought… they said you set places on fire. That your parents thought some Catholic School crackdown would help.” Stiles stammered.

“Oh, you mean the rumors you’ve heard. Hm, yes. A whole bunch of contradictions and lies. My parents are dead, Stiles. Everyone here thinks my foster parents are my real parents. All people have heard of me are rumors. I never set anything on fire. No bathrooms, no lockers. The fire at my house was an arson, but not by my hand.” Derek growled out. “Some sick fucks set that fire because they wanted to kill good people. My father was a good lawyer, my mother a kindergarten teacher. My aunts and uncles were there too, little cousins, small children. The only survivors were me and my sister Laura, and my Uncle Peter. He’s been a vegetable since the fire, and has never even showed signs of improving. I never see my sister anymore. She’s in the system too. But she writes me letters sometimes…” Derek stopped, almost sounding choked.

                “She’s set to graduate at the top of her class this year. She…God, she’s so smart. And I… I fucked up. I acted out. People blamed me for other people’s stupid actions. My foster parents enrolled me here because now they can still get their check, get my schooling paid for free, and be rid my me. They can’t even look at me.” Derek continued.

                “But, what about the lighter? You always carry it around with you.  You’re always flicking it open.” Stiles asked, moving closer. The warmth of the night air felt good against his skin, but he was still shaking. Fear, nerves, and maybe just a tingle of arousal…okay, so a lot of arousal, coursed through Stiles’ body. Even though Derek was upset, and Stiles was upset hearing about it, Stiles couldn’t help but still watch the way Derek looked, the way he moved, the way his lips wrapped around the cigarette.

                “It’s a reminder. Flame is beautiful, but it can destroy. And…this is going to sound so stupid. But…phoenixes rise from the ashes. They rise from fire. I’d like to think of myself as someone who rises from the ashes too. So I carry the lighter with me. Whenever I start to feel upset, mad, or sad, I pull it out, look at the flame, and tell myself to rise above it.” Derek replied.

“Everyone is afraid of you, you know. Why don’t you show that you’re not cruel, that you didn’t do all those things? You let people take the rap for you. Boyd had to shelve all those books tonight because you acted good for something you did.” Stiles chided, and Derek snorted.

                “Please. Boyd is smart, quiet, and meek. But he’s also cruel when he wants to be. I was in the library, and he put down a whole bunch of books on Arson in front of me. And when I freaked, Sister Kate came in, and saw me visibly upset. She took my side. You said it yourself. Everyone is afraid of me. But guess what, they don’t make it easy on me either. I do something in class like answer a question and I get met with a ‘Why don’t you go burn down another bathroom, Hale’. Okay? So it’s not just me. It’s them. Fucking stupid Catholic school boys who get to go here on mommy and daddy’s money. They may seem nice, and may not want  to go here as much as the rest of us, but they’re not all nice.”

Stiles nodded silently. This was definitely different. But could he trust Derek? He didn’t know. The other boys seemed so nice, hell, Eric even called him Batman. But… Derek seemed sincere. Even though he wasn’t looking at Stiles, Stiles could hear tears in his voice. That wasn’t the voice of someone who made things up, or lied. And Stiles would know. His dad being the Sheriff for many years, Stiles learned how to spot lies and tells in someone’s voice.

“Well…maybe it’s something you can work on. Isaac is pretty nice. Maybe if you could be nice to him, you could start a chain reaction. I…I can talk to him for you?” Stiles suggested, scooting closer to Derek, close enough to touch his hand. Derek looked over at him, and Stiles smiled a bit.

                “You are something else, you know that?” Derek huffed.

“Hmm, nope. Care to tell me how awesome I am?” Stiles laughed, and Derek cracked a smile.

“Yeah, okay. “

                Derek snorted, and put out his cigarette butt, smashing it with his boot. The light of the moon was pale, and it illuminated Derek’s features very well.  Stiles felt his breath catch in his throat, and Derek looked over at him.

“Uh…sorry.” Stiles stammered, and felt his heart jump when Derek moved closer, touching Stiles’ hand, pulling him closer to him.

                “I…I. Derek?” Stiles asked, and watched as the dark haired boy lean in, inches away from his face. “I…is there something you need?”

“You are so unlike everyone else here. No one else here has given a shit about me. Why do you care? Did your little friends tell you to do this?” Derek looked hurt. “Why do you give a shit about the broken kid. Huh?”

Stiles whimpered, and looked away, but then he felt his jaw being tugged. Derek was forcing him to look him in the eyes, his strong, and holy fuck perfectly long and slender, fingers holding him in place. Stiles looked up. Derek’s eyes were so blue, they were like ice cold ocean water, light against ice. They were so beautiful.

                “Derek…” Stiles breathed, and he leaned in. Fuck courage, this was outright stupid.  Stiles was acting upon pure stupidity. He caught Derek’s lips with his own, a quick brush, and then again, deeper, pushing forward slightly. Derek was stiff against him, and Stiles knew he’d fucked up. Just as Stiles was about to pull away, a hand came up to his neck, pulling him closer, and Derek’s lips moved against his.


	3. Raised to Glory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The end is near."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why the fuck am I posting this- it sucks. But I felt I needed to finish it. Sorry ya'll for the disappointment you're going to face.

                “Forgive me Father, for it has been a week since my last confession.” Stiles mumbled, feeling a bit stifled in the small confessional. It was  dimly lit, a small bulb between the shade between the two parts of the room.

                “Go ahead, Child. Confess your sins to God.” The warm, soft, voice of the priest coming from the other side of the partition didn’t comfort Stiles in the least bit to know that this guy was about to know all his secrets.

                “Well, you know that vase in the front hall?...” Stiles began.

 

 ***********************************************************************

 

                “You are so fucking gorgeous.” Derek mumbled. They’d been stopping every so often on the path back to the school to make out. Derek had a very talented tongue, and he didn’t seem hesitant to use it. Stiles groaned against him. He pushed Derek’s white collared shirt away from his stomach, and Derek’s hands roamed up his sides, pushing the shirt up with them.

                “N-Not here. Inside. We can’t here.” Stiles whimpered, and Derek growled, grabbing Stiles’ hand, and dragging him up the rest of the path and to the door to the school. Derek opened it quietly, and they snuck inside, taking off their shoes, leaving them just in socks on the cold tile floor. Derek padded forward cautiously, checking to make sure the coast was clear. After a firm nod, Stiles followed suit. Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand, and the boy didn’t make any motion to let it go. In fact, and maybe it was all in Stiles’ mind, but he squeezed tighter.

                Halfway through the front hall, where they’d met that night, Derek growled, and pushed Stiles into the wall. His elbow slammed against the wall, and he shifted, knocking over a valuable vase. It crashed to the floor, breaking loudly.  Derek’s eyes flew to Stiles’, and they both looked down the hall towards where the sisters slept, fearful. Stiles quickly grabbed Derek’s wrist, dragging him to the stairs that climbed up to the wing of the school where they all slept. When they reached Derek’s room,  they closed the door swiftly behind them, locking it.

                “So, that was close.” Stiles laughed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Uh, we are so getting busted in the morning.”

                “Well then, I guess we better make tonight count.” Derek huffed, his voice dark and silky. He kissed Stiles softly, as if he were pouring everything into the kiss, all his thoughts, his will.

                “Derek, no need to convince me. I already want this.” Stiles joked, and pulled the leather jacket Derek wore off his shoulders, Derek breathing heavily into Stiles’ neck, mouthing at it. Tossing the jacket to the floor, Stiles also made quick work of his collared button down, and _god._ This kid was a model, or something, a fallen angel. He was so Stiles’ type, Stiles was pretty sure he may never actually find someone to quite measure up in the looks department. Whimpering, Stiles lowered his hands to his sides.

                “You okay?” Derek mumbled from Stiles’ collarbone, hands once again flitting underneath Stiles’ shirt. His eyes wandered up to look at Stiles, and when the slighter boy nodded, he smiled, and kissed the skin of Stile’s jaw. Derek unbuttoned Stiles’ buttondown, his fingers fumbling and slightly shaky. If the truth came out, Derek, for all his appearances and images, was a blushing virgin. He’d told the boys that he’d had plenty of girls in public school, but that was the farthest thing from the truth. He had to keep up appearances, and really, they would never believe that he only batted for his own team.  His reputation at school made him the resident bad boy, but guys didn’t tend to go for that kind of thing.

                Pushing Stiles’ shirt off his shoulders, he mouthed at one of Stiles’ nipples, loving the way it felt in his mouth. It was soft, but between Stiles’ whimpers and Derek’s mouth and tongue it was soon pebbled in his mouth. Derek loved the feeling, and quickly set to work on the other one. He could feel himself growing harder in his khakis. Since the boy had appeared today, Derek couldn’t stop thinking about him. He’d watched him get dropped off out the window of the hallway, and made sure that he was outside when the goody-goody Isaac brought him upstairs. To say he was a bit smitten was  a bit of an understatement.

                “God, you are so amazing.” Derek whimpered, and Stiles let out a shaky breath above him. He felt Stiles’ hands roaming around his chest, pinching his nipples as he mouthed at Stiles. Leaning up, he kissed Stiles quickly, and a bit filthily. Then, dropping to his knees, Derek listened as Stiles moaned out loud, his head lolling back.

                “Maybe we should lay down instead?” Derek smiled, and Stiles’ head snapped down to look at him. Stiles quickly nodded, and they scrambled over to the small twin bed that sat against Derek’s wall. Stiles practically flung himself down, unzipping his pants, while Derek knelt on his legs, tugging them down until they reached his knees. Letting out a chuckle, Derek looked up at Stiles.

                “Briefs? Really?” Derek teased, only if just to watch the blush that traveled up Stiles’ neck to his ears. He was absolutely stunning.

                “W-Well, if I knew t-this is what we’d be doing, I would have worn something more appropriate.” Stiles smiled, and arched his hips.

                “No need. These are perfect. Simple and sweet, and easy to remove.” Derek smirked, and leaned down, mouthing at Stiles through his briefs. The boy below him let out a moan, and Derek knew what he was doing must’ve been right. Mouthing a bit rougher, Derek let himself taste the precome leaking through the fabric. It was salty, but perfect. The scent of Stiles and sweat hit his nose, and he moaned out. God, this couldn’t get any better.

                Or could it?

                “Derek! Please, please suck me off.” Stiles begged, his hands searching to find Derek’s hair. Derek complied, and pulled down the white briefs to Stiles knees , and then pulled both those and the khakis off. He also pulled off Stiles’ shoes and socks while he was at it. Then, he licked his way up Stiles’ legs, biting every now and then. The sounds that were coming out of Stiles’ mouth only got Derek riled up even more. He quickly moved up to Stiles’ straining cock, red and dribbling precome. It wouldn’t be long, Derek knew that much. It didn’t take an idiot to know that being that aroused made for a quick resolution.

                “Can I?” Derek asked quietly, looking at the tip of Stiles’ cock, watching as the boy arched his hips and nodded furiously. That was all it took for Derek to sink his mouth down slowly onto Stiles. The taste was different, a mix between salty, sweaty, and something ultimately like Stiles and his body wash. Hollowing his cheeks, Derek bobbed his head up and down, his lips tight. He brought his other hand up to fondle Stiles’ balls in his hand softly, and finger lightly at his puckered hole. He could hear Stiles moaning and groaning underneath him, and Derek resisted the urge to smile.

                Of all the shitty things that had ever happened in his life so far, this had to make up for all of it. Of all the sins Derek had ever committed, this one was his absolute favorite. He’d been truthful with Stiles, and while he didn’t know if Stiles trusted him or even liked him, he knew that he’d go to hell for this. And he’d go happily, flames and all. Derek pulled up a bit, just to look at Stiles. He was quiet, biting his already red and bruised lips, his fingers and bitten nails clawing at Derek’s sheets, bunching up in his fists. Derek moaned against Stiles’ skin, licking the underside of Stiles’ cock. He felt Stiles tense up, and he pulled away. 

                “You like that?” Derek cooed softly, brushing a hand over Stiles’ thigh. But Stiles doesn’t seem to notice the tender motion.

                “F-Fuck, Derek. Why did you stop? S-So close.”

“Exactly. I don’t want you coming in my mouth. I want you coming all over my sheets.” Derek groaned out roughly, pulling himself away from Stiles to pull his own pants off. He’s hard, painfully so, and it feels amazing when he finally unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants. Pushing them down to his knees, he steps out of them, and quickly gets rid of his boxer briefs. Stroking himself, Derek mewls out, watching Stiles breath, stretched out on his bed.

                “And what if I want to be on top?” Stiles challenged, eyeing Derek’s cock with excitement and curiosity. Almost as if he is thinking exactly how it will feel and taste.

                “You want to fuck me?” Derek asked, and walked over to his desk, pulling out lube and a condom. Throwing them at Stiles, Derek smirked. “Fine. Go for it.”

Stiles gasped, and looked down at the condom on the sheets. “Are…Are you serious?” He asked, and picked it up, looking back at Derek.

                “Why not? If you don’t want to, I always can. I’ve had a lot of practice with my own hands. I’m sure they’ll do just fine…” Derek trailed off teasingly, and Stiles fumbled, sitting up on the bed.

 

                “No! I want to!”

*********************************************************************

“Is that all my child?” The priest asked, and Stiles blushed behind the partition.

 

                “Well,….”

*************************************************

 

“F-Fuck! Stiles! Don’t stop!” Derek moaned as quietly as he could, as Stiles nimble fingers stretched him open, slick with lube and moving fast. Each time he curled his fingers, Derek felt a shock of pleasure shoot through him.  Clutching at the sheets, he concentrated on Stiles’ heavy breath as he fingered Derek into an almost catatonic state.

“You want me? You want this Derek?” Stiles hummed out, petting Derek’s torso as he pulled his fingers out, opening up the condom. Derek nodded wordlessly, his legs shaking, spread out for Stiles and ready.

                In his mind, part of Derek knew that Stiles probably would leave after this. He wouldn’t stay, he would get embarrassed, tell him that he was going to head out. But Derek couldn’t help but hope that he didn’t. He wanted him to stay there, stay with him after fucking him into oblivion. Wanted to not fuck something up for once in his life. He could hear Stiles grab the lube, and moan as he slicked himself.

                “Are you sure?” Stiles asked, a bit nervous. He didn’t want to mess up, or hurt Derek. Shivering a bit, he watched as Derek nodded, and slowly  pushed inside. The tightness was overwhelming, too perfect and pleasurable.  He stopped just after bottoming out, Derek grunting below him.

                “Are you okay? Does it hurt?” Stiles asked, and Derek responded by thrusting up, thrusting his hips back onto Stiles. Stiles moaned, and nodded, thrusting shallowly, trying to find his rhythm, find a pace that would work.

*********************************************************

 

“And then there was this one time….”

 

 ********************************************************

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Derek. I’m gonna come so soon if you don’t stop!” Stiles moaned, trying to slow Derek’s hips from trying to buck back into Stiles’ thrusts.

“Well maybe if you weren’t going slow!” Derek huffed, locking eyes with Stiles. Stiles bit his lip, and looked down, and Derek’s face softened.

                “I just want to enjoy it. I want to remember it.” Stiles whimpered out, and Derek smiled, and leaned up, placing a tentative kiss on Stiles’ lips. It was sweet, soft and simple. Laying back down, Derek thrusted up slightly again.

                “Trust me, you’ll enjoy it. You’ll never forget it. I’ll make sure.” Derek whispered, and Stiles nodded, bucking slowly, but then picking up the pace, full body blushing with exertion and heat.

Derek moaned out, watching as Stiles sped up, his eyes closing in pleasure, in getting to the brink, but not tumbling over the edge. Derek could tell he was so close, so close, but wasn’t there yet. Derek smirked. Bucking up, Derek grabbed onto Stiles’ shoulders, pulling him down, scratching at the skin of his back, whimpering into his ear.

“Please, Stiles. Please make me come, please.” Derek bit the lobe of Stiles’ ear, and that was it. Stiles’ hips stuttered, and he let out a strangled gasp. The feeling of Stiles’ breath on his skin, the feeling of Stiles inside him, Derek being so close himself, drove Derek over the edge. He came a few seconds just after Stiles.

 

“Oh my god.” Stiles smiled, and looked down at Derek, who drew him into a feverish kiss.

****************************************************************

“I think that’s about it.” Stiles finished. He could almost hear the priest nod.

 

“Thank you, my child. As your penance, please say ten Hail Marys and remember to speak to god. You may now leave, my child. Go, you have been absolved of your sins.”

 

*************************************************

Half an hour later, Derek found Stiles still in his arms. His breath was shallow, as if he were too tired to be awake, but not tired enough to actually fall asleep. Smiling, Derek placed a kiss on Stiles’ neck. The boy shifted next to him, and turned to look at him.

“Hey, you know something?”

“Yeah?” Derek replied, and raised his brow.

“You never told me. Do you believe in Heaven?”

 “I do now.”


End file.
